The Little Things
by redrupee
Summary: Sometimes the smallest motions make the most significant impact on our lives. When you get right down to it, life is rather simple. 100 Themes Challenge centered around Death the Kid, Liz, and Patty.
1. Introduction

AN: I am going to do what is impossible for me; attempting to write two fics about the same characters at the same time.

This is going to be the 100 themes challenge with Death the Kid and his lovely team. I really adore them, if you can't tell! n_n I'll warn for spoilers, by the way. If I don't, kick me and I'll edit, because I'm awfully forgetful. I'll also try to censor my language, but this is going to be T, just in case. (Consider that a warning, JulesKD!)

Obviously, the first is the Introduction, so here we are. Kid and Liz and Patty meeting for the first time - the way I think it went, at least.

Wish me luck! I'll be trying to keep these shorter than those of Building a Bridge for the sake of honoring the challenge itself. If you've read any of my other stuff, you know that I love reviews more than life itself, so make my little self happy, if you like what I write!

* * *

Liz stood in front of Patty and bared her teeth like something feral.

"I mean you no harm," the skinny little rich stranger said to her with both hands outstretched. He stood on - literally _on_ - the pile of men that had previously been threatening her and her sister with their lives, his well-shined boots glimmering in the dim lighting. He showed no fear, no fear at all; in fact, his eyes were wild with delight, a grin made from nothing short of _joy_ stretched across his face - and he had perfect teeth, teeth that made Liz want to vomit right on his nice clothes and put out a cigarette butt on his flawless skin and steal every dollar to his name.

Only an hour or so ago Liz had been the one standing before him, and she'd pressed her sister's cold metal to his throat and leered at him, very much ready to pull the trigger. She'd blown cigarette smoke in his goddamn face and punched him in the stomach when she left, leaving him doubled over behind her.

And he had willingly handed her a fistful of money, too, right out of his pockets. She didn't need an excuse to hit him - he'd been cooperative enough, after all - she'd just wanted to fill those fearless eyes with terror and pain. She'd failed, too, because even as she and her sister left with his money he kneeled on the filthy streets of Brooklyn and stared after them like a vulture awaiting the death of a small animal. The feeling of his eyes on the back of her neck had made the hair on the nape of her neck raise.

And now he was looking at them again, his _sophisticated_ eyes fixed on their filthy, grubby faces, his grin fading as his rush of enthusiasm subsided. She didn't know what he wanted, or why he'd saved them, or who he was, but he was here, and he was dangerous, and he

_Would. Not. Touch. Patty._

"I want you two to come with me," he said matter-of-factly.

"F*** you," Liz retorted, and she spat at his shoes.

"If I wanted to hurt you," he said patiently, watching as the glob landed on one of the fallen mobsters with that obnoxious look of _fearlessness_, "I would have done it when you were threatening me."

Liz didn't know what to say to that. His rationality didn't belong on the street.

"I need weapons and I need symmetry," he insisted in a tone Liz could not place - _hope_? - and he stepped off of the pile. "You two will provide me with everything I need, and I will give you anything you want in return." No, she recognized it now - it was desperation.

Liz paced backwards and forced Patty against the wall of the warehouse. She had never imagined that they would be literally _cornered_ by some lanky, deadly little dude in an odd suit -- dear God, was this the _end_? Not for their lives, not necessarily, but for their freedom? Was he going to _take_ them? The thought thoroughly terrified her, and she had to swallow back the urge to run past him as quickly as she could with her sister in tow.

"You're shaking, Sis," Patty said, and she laughed. The sound made Liz feel a bit queasy.

"I want you two to be my weapons," he proclaimed, taking another step forward. A body behind them stirred, and stood, and reached for him --

-- and he aimed a backwards punch at the thug's pasty bulldog face without even having to look. The poor sap collapsed back into the pile once more like felled timber, and Liz's jaw hung open in awe. Patty was laughing harder now.

He was more dangerous than they were, and he wasn't even a weapon.

"I'm not going to force you into servitude," he said once Patty quieted, outstretching his hands once more. Liz felt Patty begin to reach back and distracted her by grabbing onto her hand and squeezing it. "I have been searching endlessly for a pair of weapons like you... I think I may need you girls." His voice was completely sincere.

It dawned on her then; this guy that she had _mugged _and punched for no apparent reason had taken out an entire mob that had wanted their money, and their _bodies_, and God-only-knew what else, and he had done it just for them.

What little light the warehouse lights cast suddenly made him look like an angel.

"Who _are_ you?" She whispered to him, and she saw him smirk.

"Nobody you have to fear," he said delicately. "I'm..."

-

"DEATH THE KID!" Liz Thompson roared, and her anger very nearly shook the blinds.

Kid peered innocently around the corner at Liz, who stood with what _looked _like a magazine in one hand and a pair of scissors in the other.

"What, Liz?" He asked politely in a saccharine tone that was made of lies.

Liz cut right to the chase, with no pun intended.

"You cut my magazine in friggin' _half_!" She stormed, pinching the corner of its cover so that it fell open. Every page - every article, every picture - was cut very cleanly down the middle.

Kid looked sheepish.

"Don't you even give me that dog-pissed-on-the-carpet face," Liz seethed. "What the Hell did you do this for, huh!? I wasn't even halfway done with reading this!"

Predictably, Kid spread his arms to with an angelic smile.

"The pages were off-center," he insisted. "They didn't fold it right. I was only trying to help. It was completely asymmetrical--"

This time, Liz was hearing none of it.

"Give me five reasons I shouldn't make your _face_ asymmetrical," she demanded.

Kid's arms dropped to his sides. His mouth opened, then closed - and he ran out of the room without another word.

"_I am going to cut a corner off of every piece of blank stationary in this house_!" Liz shrieked, racing after him with the scissors still clutched tightly in her fist.

Patty sat on the couch and laughed, laughed far past the point where her cheeks turned red, then purple, and the tears flowed freely from her eyes.


	2. Love

AN: Two in one night so I can let my plot bunnies rest. Short and sweet, just for you guys!

It's weird how often I write for Liz. I don't think I know her well at all. o_o

I love everyone that reads this. Your support keeps me going. [heart goes here]

* * *

Snow was piling up outside, but the bitter cold did not reach the inside of Death Mansion.

Twin fireplaces blazed with all of their hearts, purring the melody of their warmth to the inhabitants of the house. The lights were dimmed in every room, and each sound echoed its own solo - the snapping of the burning wood, the feathery-softness of children in a peaceful slumber, the musical whistling of the wind outside - and the air was thick with comfort, trust, and adoration, feelings that would suffocate a stranger. Three empty mugs, still warm from the residue of tediously-prepared hot chocolate, sat abandoned, the embers from the fire glowing against the smooth glass of the coffee table. Somewhere in the house, a television on low volume gave the false impression of life, its tender murmuring spreading like lullaby.

The three happy bodies were piled onto the couch, and two sat limp and very much asleep. Liz, sandwiched between her sister and her meister, was still not quite ready to embrace her own nagging sleepiness - she instead smiled fondly at Patty as she slumbered against her shoulder, and her fingers gently combed through the hair of Death the Kid.

She couldn't figure out why, but her heart felt as if it were about to burst.

Patty was to her left, immediately beside her, just as she always had been and always would be. She had been there through the wild days, the dangerous nights, the weeks they had previously spent shivering on days like these, huddled against one another, not for comfort but for warmth, as the threat of freezing to death loomed dangerously above their heads. Now she was safe, adored, and well-dressed, and her head nodded as she breathed evenly, smiling at some silly dream that Liz wished she could see - it was probably about them, after all. She was beautiful, innocent Patty, unconditionally-passionate Patty, silly and motivational and immature to a fault Patty. Her sister.

And to her right was Death the Kid, who had opened his heart to them and let them into his home without any second guessing. The boy who could barely stand to be touched at some earlier point was now leaning against her, looking so much younger and so much weaker in his dreamy state than he did when he so fervently shot his powerful wavelengths through them in battle. He slept with his mouth slightly ajar, breathing deep breaths, his pale face shimmering yellow and orange as the fire burned. And he looked so at ease and so _beautiful_ that she felt like moving her hands from his hair to his cheeks to make sure he was still as real as the day they met - her beautiful meister, beautiful Kid, troubled and nurturing (usually) sensible Kid. Her Godsend.

She wanted to protect him and Patty from everything in the world. They were her family now, her everything, and she never wanted anything to harm them again.

Liz gingerly placed a hand on Patty's head and put her arm around Kid in order to pull him closer, staring out the window at the falling snow. It drifted pointlessly to the ground, swirling when the wind did, and she remembered how much she had hated it back when she had to worry about losing her fingers and toes to the chill. Things were so different now...

Her beautiful children still glowed in the light of the fire, and she found herself wondering if this dull ache in her heart was love.


	3. Light

AN: Sup, guys! I had surgery on Wednesday to have my wisdom teeth removed, and it SERIOUSLY hurts. I can't do much at the moment, so here, have a couple of chapters. :D

Thanks to everyone that's reviewed. I'm glad I decided to write about things some of you have been looking for!

* * *

And somehow, they had ended up camping.

It was a relatively warm night, which eliminated the need for jackets, but with every comfort there seemed to be a drawback; namely the pitch black of the forest. In spite of the light cast by the full moon, the lantern, and countless stars above, the threat of being discovered by the enemy they hoped to find first was ever-present. The mood would have been tense had the leader of their excursion avoided being sucked into a game his comrades thought would be a brilliant idea to keep their spirits up, and now he was not only regretting taking this mission, but his overall conception as well. This was a fate worse than death itself.

"Okay, Kid, it's your turn," Liz said, and Patty giggled in delight, clapping her hands together.

Across from them, Kid sighed. He could either put up with this merciless torture or let them gather up their things and leave, and he wasn't exactly up for facing their enemy unarmed and alone.

At least they'd thought to bring a lantern with them so he could see what they were doing, the creeps.

"Fine, fine," he relented, trying to ignore the sense of foreboding in his stomach. Their grins shined brightly against the darkness. "Give me... Truth." Dare would be a death wish, he presumed - they would probably tell him to tear _one _of his sleeves off, or something... A cold sweat formed on his forehead at the mere thought.

Liz smirked at him devilishly. "I'll spare ye a horrible fate," she said in an ominous tone, wiggling her fingers at him over the light emitted from the lantern between them. "Be grateful."

Kid rolled his eyes. "I revere ye, O Merciful God," he said sarcastically, looking impatient. "Just tell me what I have to do before the suspense _kills_ me."

Liz and Patty exchanged glances, and he could hear Patty cackling. He decided right away that he did _not_ like the look in their eyes.

"Okay, Death the Kid," Liz said, and Kid flinched at the usage of his whole name. "Tell us..." Their grins widened abruptly. "Have you ever kissed a girl?"

... That was it?

"No," he said matter-of-factly. For a moment he really thought that Liz's jaw was going to hit the forest floor.

"_No!?_" She parroted in disbelief, and Patty began to laugh, _hard_.

Kid just stared at them.

"But... But you're so _handsome_!" She shrieked over her sister's howling. "And you're _rich_! How... How the Hell!?"

"You two know better than everyone that I only take what I want," he said, examining his cuticles by the bright light carefully to better hide his humiliation. "Of course I've had plenty of suitors. But I wasn't interested in a single one of them."

"Don't tell me Kid is waiting for 'Mrs. Right' to come along," Liz said with a grimace. Patty was still laughing at him, doubled over now with the force of the effort.

"Kid's never kissed a girl!" She sang at the top of her voice. "Kid's never kissed a girl!"

"Be quiet," he insisted. "The Kishin Egg is going to find us before morning if you keep yelling..."

"Kid's never kissed a girl!"

Yeah, that was getting old fast.

"I don't see why it's such a big deal," he pouted, surprised that Patty's taunts were actually getting to him. "It's by choice..."

"It's a friggin' _dumb_ choice," Patty said, giggling and clutching at her sides. She was, unfortunately, the type of person that didn't even bother to compose themselves after a laughing fit.

"Well, I answered your question," he huffed, folding his arms rather childishly as he attempted to change the subject. His cheeks, puffed with indignation, shined in the fluorescent glow. "Okay, Liz. Give me some truth. Have _you_ ever kissed someone?"

Liz blinked at him in surprise, then laughed. She laughed just as hard as Patty had and used that same taunting tone, like he'd just asked her the dumbest question in the world, and the light of the lantern bounced off of her hair.

"Of course," she said, grinning at him devilishly and leaning forward. The lantern cast demonic shadows over her face. "Brooklyn girls do it best," she continued in a sing-song voice, and Patty waggled her eyebrows at him, laughing like Satan himself. He drew back in horror, grateful that she was apparently sparing him the details and upset that his plans to humiliate her had blown up in his face in the same breath.

"Anyway, it's your turn again, Kid," Liz said. Kid swallowed.

"Shouldn't we be going to bed?" He asked nervously, eyeing the lantern that separated them. "That might run out of battery soon, after all..."

"Nonsense," Liz said, patting the lantern's handle affectionately. "This baby's got another hour at the least. Now, Kid, _tell us_... Truth or Dare?" There was no escape.

For once, Kid really did resent the light that was being shed on the situation.


	4. Dark

AN: There's a cartoon/song on Weebl's Stuff that reminds me of Patty.

_There was a giraffe in my loft_

_I didn't invite it_

_It was stomping 'round for days _

_And kept me up all night_

* * *

She'd grown up on the goddamn streets of Brooklyn and she was still afraid of the dark.

Well, the truth of it was, Patty had never seen darkness like this before. There was one Hell of a storm outside, and the wind positively screamed at the window, clawing to get in. Either someone had driven into a pole, or the power lines were torn down by the weather - either way, the power supply of Death Mansion had cut off while she had been sitting on a couch in the living room, and now the entire house was utterly black. She couldn't even see her hand trembling before her face.

When they lived on the street, there were always street lights and luminous buildings, and the sound of honking horns and screeching tires was their lullaby. It had been difficult adjusting to seeing the stars of Death City at first, but she'd grown to love it - and, in turn, she'd grown to hate the light pollution of the city. She'd never experienced a blackout before, however, and it was so dark and so quiet that the terror swelled within her chest. She drew in a deep breath and hugged one of Kid's throw pillows to her chest, shutting her eyes tightly. Maybe if she brought the darkness to her on her own terms, it wouldn't be as frightening...

Tears slid past her eyelids, and her shoulders shook. Patty was never scared - why was she scared now? It was darkness, that's all. She was being silly. Liz was somewhere in the building, too, and so was Kid, so it wasn't like she was alone. She just wanted the lights back on, that was all...

Footsteps cut through the sound of the wind and rain. She felt Kid sit beside her; she felt Kid's arms around her shoulders, bringing her closer. But she didn't open her eyes.

Kid didn't say anything. He didn't tease her for being afraid or reprimand her for overreacting. He simply sat beside her and allowed her to feel a little less alone in this vast darkness, this unfamiliar night that she had never experienced before.

The power stayed off, the wind still roared, and he remained by her side, consoling her, warding away the monsters that lurked in the obscurity and in her head. Every once and a while he would give a little shiver, himself, and a small part of Patty wondered that maybe - just maybe - he was afraid of the dark, too.


	5. Seeking Solace

AN: FLUFF. FLUUUUFF.

Kid and his team are so good for fluff.

* * *

Kid normally didn't show weakness, but when he did, Liz knew damn well that she had to listen to every word he said.

Of course he shed tears. Everyone shed tears. He would cry shamelessly when something formerly symmetrical was broken beyond repair; he wept bitterly over his own asymmetry, over the imbalance of the world, and he would nearly tear his hair out in despair when faced with his own failure. However, all of those scenarios were linked with his disorder - they weren't genuine tears that he shed.

No, those were not the tears of Death the Kid, but of his demon. And, excluding those tears, he was remarkably capable of withholding his inner turmoil.

Keeping that in mind, there was one night that she would never forget, the night he pushed her door open and whispered urgently to her through the darkness, calling her name hoarsely with a trembling and inconsistent voice. "_Liz_," he hissed, creeping into the room barefoot on squeaky floorboards. "_Liz_."

Liz was only dimly aware of his voice, still caught up in both her dreams and her sheets. She awoke with a sharp inhale when he put his cold hands on her exposed shoulder, her heart pounding furiously against her ribs.

"Kid?" Liz mumbled sleepily, rolling over from her stomach to her back. Her eyes focused on a vulnerable, pale face through the black fuzz of the dark room, and his terrified gaze alarmed her. "Kid, what's wrong?" The fog of her slumber began to dissipate as adrenaline pumped through her veins, filling her mind with a dozen worst-case scenarios. "Is Patty alright?"

"She's fine," Kid said, his words swallowed by an uneven exhale. "Everything's fine. I... I'm sorry, I shouldn't have woken you up." He clenched his hands into fists by his sides and screwed his eyes shut tightly, and Liz, baffled by his actions, sat upright.

"What's the matter with you, Kid?" She asked, rubbing at her eyes with her fists. The only thing keeping her from beating the ever-loving Shinigami out of him was her motherly nature; this was not typical Kid behavior, and it scared her. "You never wake me up..."

"... It's foolish," he said sharply, and although he looked as if he were now fully composed, Liz could tell that his soul was terribly jarred by something, almost to the point of being out of resonance. And _that_ was startling. "I'm sorry for waking you. I'm going back to sleep."

But Liz couldn't let this slide. She reached out and gripped his wrist, running her thumb over his, shushing him. He tensed and stared at her from the farthest corner of his eyes, looking torn between slapping her hand away and relaxing. Nobody had ever touched him like that before, a caress both pure and gentle, comfort with no ulterior motives, and it made him want to leave and stay at the same time.

"Kid, you never had a mother, did you?" She asked. Neither had she, technically, but she'd _been_ a mother. She became a mother the day she had to hug Patty to her chest and ward off the blackened hands of the rest of the world. "Nobody's really been there to comfort you, have they?"

Suddenly, talking about what was tearing at his very soul seemed a lot more appealing to him.

"... I had a nightmare," he said stiffly, cringing and awaiting Liz's laughter. It didn't come, so he turned to her, allowing her to loosely grasp his hand.

"Something had you. You were calling out to me and... And I couldn't shoot, because I only had Patty."

Liz felt his hand shaking underneath her fingertips.

"You kept yelling for me, Liz. And Patty was yelling, too, because I wouldn't pull the trigger. I wasn't balanced and I could barely even hold her... And she was yelling, _Kid, you coward_."

The light that filtered in through the crack in the doorway glistened against the tears that suddenly stood out on his cheeks. Liz, stunned by these tears - these _real tears_ that weren't produced by his mentality - tried to pull him towards her, and he pushed her away.

"_Kid, you coward_, she yelled at me, over and over, even after you were gone..." His voice broke, and he bit his lip to muffle a sob. "_Kid, you coward_."

Liz could only watch him.

"It's exactly what would have happened, Liz," he whispered to her. "I wouldn't have been able to shoot, Liz... I wouldn't have been able to save you. _Kid, you coward_... Even my dreams know I'm a coward..."

This time, when Liz tried to bring him close, he allowed it. He felt foolish and she felt awkward, but his soul stabilized as she hugged him to her chest and let him silently weep.

"I'll always believe in you, Kid," she said into his ear. "And Patty will, too." It didn't take a psychologist to tell that this had touched him in all the wrong ways, and it would do no good to remind him that it was just a dream. "Everyone has their faults, you know. We'll work past them. We've always been able to."

"I know," he mumbled, squirming a little in her grasp. "I told you it was foolish. _I'm_ foolish. This is completely unnecessary..."

"There's nothing wrong with seeking solace within your family," Liz whispered in response, hugging him tighter and smiling into his hair.

From that night on, she decided that so long as he was seeking solace with her and her sister, he would be the strongest guy in the world - weakness or no. All they had to do was listen.


	6. Break Away

AN: 'Sup, guys? Just sneaking in an update, don't mind me.

... So much for keeping these short. I really like this chapter, though. Definitely my favorite thus far. Still, leave it to me to get totally carried away when it comes to such a basic idea...

* * *

To Death the Kid, it wasn't how other people saw him that worried him; it was how he saw himself.

Everyday life was a tedious chore. He pressured himself into walking with his feet perpetually shoulder-width apart, keeping his suit absolutely spotless and perfectly set over his body at all times. He stuffed his hands into his pockets or firmly planted them by his sides, calculating symmetry and distance with every step, striving incessantly for absolute perfection. Every morning before leaving the house and every night before retiring to sleep he would check the mansion in its entirety, making sure that the candles were even, the toilet paper was folded, the picture frames were set on an equal axis, and so on. He cleaned their home from top to bottom whenever the mood struck him, which was quite often as it were, scrubbing whenever his mind projected a stain or neglected patch on the carpeting or the walls. When Patty decided to reward herself for a job well done with a cookie, she had to eat it over the sink lest some crumbs make their way onto his spotless haven. Symmetry was art; perfection was a necessity. He wouldn't be any kind of Shinigami, he insisted, unless everything reflected his prowess.

Bold, strong, and handsome Kid withered under his own scrutiny, endlessly haunted by his own flaws, a prisoner to the image he had of himself as he tried with all of his might to achieve a lifelong equilibrium. He set up walls to conceal any errors he made and hid from his defects as well as he could, and his habit of trying to shut out his imperfections weighed such an immense amount of stress onto his shoulders that Liz would have warned him about premature graying if she didn't know any better- the last thing he needed was to be conscious of more potential for asymmetry.

His awareness of the terrible imbalance in the world occasionally made Liz and Patty worry. They knew that this was simply the way he was and there was no changing it, yet at times they wanted nothing more than to see him relax his tense posture and swagger carelessly with a light, uneven gait. He was always so eager to prove himself that he rarely took so much as a moment to catch his breath and let his walls fall; he rushed on, occupying himself with what he felt were his duties, duties that would not be done if he wasn't the one to do them. The Thompson sisters accepted him for what he was, simply because that was how a partnership properly thrived, but they spoke to one another in secret, playful and jesting but with subtle hints of urgency - they needed to give Kid a day to break away from his everyday life and _breathe_ unbridled by his woes.

That day came when Kid seemed ready to spend one of his Saturdays in its entirety before a mirror, checking himself and his clothing for signs of change. Troubled, Liz and Patty had approached him with a bargain - if he would come with them to spend a day of shopping, eating, and general indulgence somewhere, _anywhere_, they would let him paint their nails as perfectly as he wished, no matter how long it took. He had to puzzle over it deeply before he seemed comfortable enough to agree, insisting that it was a _deal_; meaning that, if they didn't uphold their end of the bargain, well, he didn't know what he would do to them, but the sisters silently and mutually agreed that it would be worlds worse than having to sit still while he gave them a manicure.

So they took their meister outside once he was ready (which surprisingly took less time than usual, but that really wasn't saying much), politely declining an invitation for lunch with "everyone" that Maka and Soul had sent them in the process - they already had plans, sorry! They linked arms with him, partially out of affection and in part to keep him from fleeing if the opportunity arose, and set off around his father's beloved city to the beat of Patty's contented humming. They led him into shops and brought him clothing, forcing outfits onto him against his will, laughing at or approving of the wide spectrum of "new looks" they tried to shove down his throat. Kid did not like change - usually he did not accept change - yet he gave them an uneasy smile as their faces lit up with delight, actually _relaxing_ and willingly trying out this ridiculous new clothing, just to see them glowing. So long as they were happy, he figured, putting clothes on would do him no harm - just as long as he didn't feel obligated to keep them...

Patty had the idea for their next stop - ice cream. She dragged them to the shop by their wrists and mashed her face against the glass, jabbing at the protected flavors with her pointer finger, a kid in a candy store. She picked out Kid's flavor for him, some chunky mixture of chocolates and marshmallows and nuts that deviated terribly from his usual selection of vanilla, but it was alright - he acquiesced, at least, although he lost interest and asked Liz to finish it for him eventually. She said she would, as long as he gave _her_ flavor a try - his beloved vanilla, only with chunks of cookie dough. Raw cookie dough! It sounded atrocious, and he wrinkled his nose at it initially, but in truth, once he tried it he actually found it to be quite tasty - he'd been enjoying it so thoroughly that he'd missed the meaningful look that passed between the siblings at his side.

By then the sky was stained with the beautiful colors of the drowsy sun, and the group retreated to Shinigami's lovely school to view it. Professor Stein and Miss Marie had just been leaving; they held the doors open for Kid and his weapons and advised them to make haste to the balcony - the sunset, Marie continued, was going to be marvelous. They followed the advice promptly, scurrying up the flights of stairs and emerging onto the wide open space that overlooked the city in its entirety. The sky that hung overhead was, indeed, gorgeous - it was dyed fantastic reds and oranges, the clouds bleeding pink and gold. Kid leaned over the lip of the balcony, resting his elbows against the stone, and smiled, gazing at the drooling spiked being in bemusement.

"He sort of looks like you when you're falling asleep, Patty," he told her, and she laughed uproariously in response, evidently taking no offense.

Liz came up beside him and leaned as well, and Patty skipped over to his left, seizing his arm and hugging it tightly to her chest. They looked around him and smiled proudly at one another, and Liz, in a blind and bold gesture, grabbed his hand and slipped one of her bracelets onto his wrist.

"These look good on you," she said. He eyed it thoughtfully.

"I've always liked those bracelets of yours," he told her. "I'm not keeping it, though."

The sun sank lower still, and the three stood together, mismatched and at peace - but it was alright, at least for now, because they were able to break away from their usual restraints, if only for a day. Liz rubbed Kid's hand between her palms and smiled, and Patty clapped him on the back, perhaps a bit too hard, as they overlooked their home, bathed in gold.

Yes, he deserved to paint their nails... Liz wondered what color he would choose for them. Maybe he would pick the color of the sunset.


	7. Heaven

AN: Howdy, howdy. Another chapter. This one has a long overdue focus on some other characters, and it's light and fluffy. Like a peanut butter and fluff sandwich, which I had yesterday, because my friend gave me half of hers and it was amazing. Let's see if I can keep this one short, jeezuma crackers.

PS: Spot the hidden ships among the other characters! Honestly, I'm so shameless.

silent rebel wings, I will end you.

* * *

Patty never wanted to die.

Such thoughts were odd for her to consider, especially during the surging after-effects of a wonderful party, but her musing had latched onto her mind, peeking into her consciousness at all times. It wasn't morbid, not to her, and the concept wasn't depressing her or anything; she just truly, honestly never wanted to leave this beautiful, grotesque planet, where people were so great and so terrible. She never wanted to leave behind the green of the grass or the blue of the sky, the wide variety of strange and wonderful animals, the surprises and the dangers of every day at Shibusen and Death City, the _rush_ of being a weapon in the hands of her dearest friend.

The floors, which had formerly been packed with people, were now littered with residue garbage, and the only partygoers that remained were some of her favorite people in the entire world. They gathered with her around Kid's grand piano, which was spotless in spite of its lack of use, in a state of complete peace. Soul had been playing a private concert for them for some time, quietly and somewhat begrudgingly; he was finished now, however, and the last few notes hung in the air as they began to buzz around, gathering their things in preparation for their departures.

Their goodbyes were brief tonight. Tsubaki muttered a hasty "thank you" before she left, for she had to carry Black Star out and to their apartment, but she didn't seem to mind; actually, she rather enjoyed his silence. He was always so excited, but he only had so much energy for an entire day. He'd been going berserk during the party and he'd burnt himself out in the process, so the sound of the piano had made him slump over in his chair, fast asleep. Soul and Maka left arm-in-arm after saying their own parting words - Patty had seen them arguing earlier, but evidently all was mended now that he'd played for them. Maka waved at them as she left, positively glowing with delight, and Patty grinned to herself as she watched them go on their way, hanging onto Liz's arm as she waved in return.

Usually Kid didn't invest much in social gatherings, but he'd clearly been doing his share on this particular night. As soon as all the rest of his guests had left, he collapsed onto his couch with a deep sigh, closing his eyes and leaning against the plush cushions.

"Remind me never to have a party again," he mumbled. In spite of his woe, he was smiling, his cheeks flushed with the glow his departed friends had left behind them.

Liz sat beside him and put an arm about his shoulders.

"Feels good to have friends, don't it?" She asked. Patty laughed and sat on his opposite side, enthusiastically putting her hands on his knee.

"I think we should do this a whole lot, Kid," she said. "Y'know, just, _party hard_! Everyone liked it so much."

She looked out at the empty floor space, remembering how many of their allies had filled it just an hour ago; her eyes then traveled over to the piano, where Soul had played for them, just for them, and they had _loved_ it. There were so many tiny moments that made all of their work worthwhile: Maka had waltzed clumsily with Liz, right into poor Ox, who consequently spilled his punch on Kim's blouse. Jacky didn't really like that, as it turned out. Patty had never seen anyone run around on fire before; it was actually quite funny, especially when Harv finally overturned the entire punch bowl over Ox's head to douse him. Some students they didn't know very well had brought alcohol from home, and Soul and Black Star had assisted Kid in giving them a literal bum's rush out the door, picking them up by the back of their shirts and pants and throwing them down the steps and into the street - it was _totally_ badass, Maka and Patty gushed together from the corner, pointing and watching in awe. Later, Tsubaki had taken Pot of Thunder and Pot of Fire over to a corner so they wouldn't get stomped on while Kilik and Black Star engaged in a dancing contest, playing Patty-Cake with them like the true mother figure she was in a Hallmark-card-adorable display. And then there was her favorite moment of the night, when Soul gave into his friends' begging and took Maka for a slow-dance around the room. Cool-guy Soul Eater Evans had _blushed_ when Patty catcalled at him! She'd seen everything now, she felt.

"You know, Kid," Liz said, patting him on the back, "not everyone has friends like this. We're really lucky."

To Patty, Liz couldn't possibly have been more spot-on.

No, she didn't want to die. Not now, not ever, because heaven had nothing on this.


	8. Innocence

AN: Hey-hey. It SNOWED

HOLY CRAP

LIKE A LOT

(sorry I got carried away)

so here's an itty-bitty little snowfic. n_n enjoy.

* * *

Liz had a bad feeling about this.

It had snowed damn hard the previous night. The powder had accumulated to something above a foot, and consequently, classes and missions alike were cancelled - travel was just too dangerous at the moment. Liz, for one, absolutely despised the cold, but Patty and Kid had quite a different outlook on things; she knew this from past snowstorms that they'd taken full advantage of. Sledding, building perfectly symmetrical snowmen, making perfectly symmetrical snow angels... Patty was more interested in those activities than Kid was, granted, but he did enjoy partaking in the art of making symmetry. Liz, on the other hand, was completely miserable.

It looked like things were going from bad to worse today.

It had all started with an innocent request on Kid's part. After spending approximately a half an hour or so on two perfectly-balanced snowballs, he called Patty over, the fruits of his labor seated on his open palms. He had asked her to examine them carefully - he wanted to make sure they were absolutely perfect, and his ulterior motive was to show off his craftsmanship with pride. Patty came right over to him and examined the snowballs carefully, feigning actual interest and issuing mumbles and grunts of approval as she looked them over. The moment he'd rolled them into her hands so that she could see them closer, she'd flung them right at his face, and his formerly perfect works of art were now freezing cold against the bare skin of his cheeks.

Liz hadn't even known it was _possible_ for Kid to issue such a high-pitched shriek.

She must have missed something - maybe she'd blinked, God forbid - because somewhere between Kid tackling Patty to the ground in fury and now, they'd retreated to different sides of the yard and built up forts of snow to hide behind. The area was now an official warzone, and after Kid had been cleanly pelted ten times or so by the loudly-laughing Patty, he stopped trying to perfect his projectiles and just started _throwing_. Liz stood behind the safety of a tree as the two warring parties flung insults and snowballs alike, biting her lip.

Yeah, this was going to end badly.

... But they were having so much fun, weren't they?

Patty was giggling so hard that there were tears biting at the corners of her eyes. She threw hastily-composed snowballs at her meister over the wall of snow she'd made, only pausing to duck or gather up more snow between her mittens. It seemed that Kid had managed to hit her several times, because hard-packed snow clung to her pink snowsuit, clumps of ice hanging off of her blonde hair and sticking to her knitted hat. Although Kid had initially taken this battle quite seriously, he was now grinning like a fool in a much-appreciated way that Liz didn't get to see often. His snowsuit was covered with the residue of weaker, more powdery snowballs, and his too-large outfit made him look like some sort of overgrown toddler. His normally pallid skin was blotched purple, almost blue, with the bitter cold, and he was actually _laughing_, using the flawless accuracy Patty had helped him develop through their partnership against her.

It occurred to Liz abruptly - maybe _she_ was the one taking this too seriously. She watched them with the fondness of a mother examining her children, smiling now as she shrank into her (thankfully dry) coat for more warmth. There were times when Liz honestly forgot that Kid was as his name suggested - a kid - and seeing him act like this filled her with malaise, but he was undoubtedly genuinely happy grappling with Patty in a snowball fight, just as children were prone to do. It was cold, sure, but everyone was in good spirits - and it was _just _snow, after all. It wasn't like they were going to hurt each other accidentally. Fully comforted now, Liz banished the aura of 'bad feelings' from her mind and leaned against the bark of the tree, content to watch her partners frolic with childish innocence.

"Ow! Patty, that one had _rocks _in it!"

Or not. Liz hastily dialed the first few numbers of Death City's emergency services into her cell phone, just in case.


	9. Drive

AN: Very nearly based on a true story. I do not have happy times in the city.

* * *

_"We're going to die! We're going to die!"_

_"Shut the Hell up, Kid, you're not making this any easier!"_

_"Sis, I think I'm gonna throw up..."_

_"That's why they keep paper bags in here, Patty, just take one."_

_"I think someone already puked in that one."_

_"God dammit, Mister, how much longer until we get there!?"_

_"Sis, Kid just threw up."_

_"There's a fine for that, you know, lady."_

* * *

In retrospect, Liz should've known better.

She wasn't sure exactly what had made her raise her hand on the streets of New York City and whistle shrilly. "Taxi!" She remembered bellowing, a foul incantation that would lead to unimaginable torture. "Taxi!" Beside her, Kid fidgeted his uncertainty, and Patty seized his arm and gave it a firm, comforting squeeze. "It's okay, Kid," Patty had said, "Sis says the bus is too far away for the rain, and Sis knows the city real well. I heard taxis are real safe, too, Kid. Maybe they've got symmetry, too, but I dunno. Here, take my hat, your head's getting all wet..."

In truth, it was probably what anyone would've done; they'd landed this mission alone, and none of them had thought to bring an umbrella. Perhaps if they'd agreed to bring Black Star and Tsubaki along, the latter of the two would have suggested bring an umbrella, just in case - she was that type of person, after all - but the sisters and their meister gravely concluded that Black Star did _not _belong somewhere with constantly-moving traffic. He'd surely have met his death darting across the crosswalk while the glowing red hand on the sign demanded NO, or something along those lines, and Tsubaki would never forgive them for bringing him to such a Black Star-unfriendly place.

So a taxi swerved over to the side of the road, and after they dodged the water the tires had kicked up, the unfortunate and unwitting trio sealed their fate.

* * *

"_We're going to die! We're going to die!"_

The motion was just too much for him. None of these goddamn buildings _matched_, and neither did the cars... The cityscape flew by the windows in a sickening blur. To make matters worse, the pattern the vehicles moved in was so erratic - it had no order at all, and there they were, swerving through it like it was nothing! Kid dug his nails into the legs of his pistols and whimpered, lowering his head to stare at the muddy floor of the taxi. His cheeks had been colored over with a hue that was dangerously green.

"_Shut the Hell up, Kid, you're not making this any easier!"_

Liz had never been able to take a taxi before. They were so expensive, and a couple of girls living off the streets didn't exactly have the pocket change to use public transportation. How was she supposed to know that it was a ride through Hell in Satan's car itself!? She was feeling a little sick, too, but Kid was her primary concern - she'd never seen him turn _that_ color before. She hadn't meant to snap at him, either, but his wailing was clearly pissing off the driver. Patty abruptly clamped a hand over one of his eyes and Liz covered up the other; maybe not being able to see would help.

"_Sis, I think I'm gonna throw up..."_

Patty's stomach was doing somersaults. She probably would have lost her lunch already if she hadn't been focusing so much attention on helping Kid keep his own food down. The poor guy had practically melted into his seat... His face was a pretty color, though.

"_That's why they keep paper bags in here, Patty, just take one."_

Liz wanted to avoid the puking thing if at all possible, but as long as the threat existed, she wanted to remain on top of it. A shaking finger was pointed at the bags on the floor before the car swerved and sent all three of them violently careening left.

"_I think someone already puked in that one."_

Patty made a face of disgust, pointing her own finger at the pile of sodden bags once everyone had recovered from the last abrupt turn. The color had drained from her cheeks. Liz hoped to _God_ that she was just hallucinating.

"_God dammit, Mister, how much longer until we get there!?"_

Liz was losing patience with every threat of vomit. The price of their ride crawled steadily upwards, and Kid and Patty looked a bit closer to puking following each near-death experience.

"_Sis, Kid just threw up."_

He was sobbing miserably now, muttering something about how the symmetry was _completely_ off. Liz couldn't help but feel bad even though she was sure he'd just ruined her new shoes, so she shushed him and rubbed his back and promised him that they'd be out of this terrible car soon. Patty looked about ready to revisit her own lunch, so she closed her eyes, giggling about how utterly ridiculous this whole situation ended up being. She was the only one laughing.

"_There's a fine for that, you know, lady."_

Liz wanted to punch their driver in the face. Fine, sure, whatever... Money-grubbing bastard. Couldn't he see that her poor boy was miserable!?

Lord, she felt like a complete moron.

* * *

A woozy Patty and a furious Liz helped heft Kid out of the car once they'd paid the jerk behind the wheel. Kid was stumbling like a drunk, leaning against them and groaning miserably with residue motion-sickness. Liz promised him that they would never go into a taxi again, and as soon as he got his wits about him they would finish this stupid mission and _walk _to the bus, even if it was still raining.

They were getting Soul to drive them on his motorcycle next time, no matter how limited the room on it was.


	10. Breathe Again

AN: I'm on fire. My muse is pounding the crap out of me.

BAM!

Also, spoilers about the whole Kishin revival attempt thing, so if you don't know what happens - new fan or whatever - graze right on over this chapter. :D

This one's more of a character study than anything else.

* * *

Kid was formidable, so it was usually Liz that felt the pain.

First and foremost - she didn't blame him for a thing. It wasn't his fault, none of it was. When the symmetry or the asymmetry was too much for him to handle and he was rendered helpless against his enemy, Patty sprang forth and wielded Liz with the energy he lacked for the moment, because he couldn't help himself. When fear paralyzed him because the path was too uneven and the road was inconsistent, they held him up and they covered his eyes so he couldn't see how terrifying reality could be, dragging him undignified by the collar of his shirt if they had to. His weakness could literally bring him to his knees on occasion - and when that happened, they understood, and they retreated to nurse his injured ego until he was ready to try again.

And in his moments of strength, he fought with them, he fought through them, and most importantly, he fought for them; everything he did, he did it for them, and she knew that. His own body had served as a shield for them many times over, but even as his flesh, just as soft and yielding as any human's, absorbed the blows for Liz and her sister, the pain shot through her anyway in sympathy as he battled agony without them. She knew that what he did he did by choice, because it's what he felt he _had_ to do, but every time he stood before them with unnatural ferocity, or let the attacks graze his arm because he didn't want to block the onslaught, Liz felt quietly furious with him and his stupid selfless outlook. No, she didn't blame him when he froze up in the face of danger, and she didn't blame him when he threw himself in front of them as a sacrifice to save them the ache of humanity, but as a human, as a _friend_, she wanted secretly wanted to kick him every time he suffered alone.

The fact of the matter was, every time he received a blow, no matter how strong he was, it would make her breath hitch.

It scared her sometimes, how strong and selfless he was. Since their enrollment at Shibusen, she'd seen human meisters crumble under a single blow, attacks that wouldn't have even made Kid flinch. More surprisingly, she'd seen weapons block attacks for their meisters, rivulets of blood running down their foreheads and blood dribbling from their mouths as the reflections cast on their weapon forms urged their wielders on. Kid had never allowed them to take a single hit for him willingly, and the times in which they tried were greeted with rage-filled shouts of protest, genuine _anger_ at being protected; and he wasn't just being an asshole about it, to put it into crude terms, Liz knew. Kid thought that, as a gentleman, as their meister, and as the boy they had grown to love and trust with all of their hearts, he was _never_ allowed to let them down when it could be helped.

And still she sometimes forgot to breathe when he fought. She knew everything would be fine, because he was strong, stronger than any other meister she knew, and she still forgot to breathe. It was endlessly aggravating.

Of course, Kid had plenty of experience with getting injured. She'd seen him conquer just about everything, and his ability to survive grew less impressive to her with time. Her jaw stopped locking when he was sent flying; her nails stopped digging into her palms with every hit he took, and her stomach no longer turned over whenever she felt his blood against her as he wielded her. She knew that all she could do was allow him to lead them - if they shot his wavelength and defended him to the best of their ability, he would do the rest. She believed in his ability to _live_.

But she still stopped breathing every time she felt his muscles tense with pain.

The day came in which they faced their most daunting enemy yet - the Demon God himself, Asura. The combined efforts of Black Star and Death the Kid had failed to prevent him from reviving, to their immense shock, and before their partners could react they had both collapsed in a spray of blood. Liz and Patty cried out to Kid as he fell; to their distress, he was unable to respond. It was one of those rare and terrible occasions in which he was completely, thoroughly, undeniably defeated.

Although Asura had consequently been revived, all of the weapons knew deep down within their hearts that their meisters would be alright, and everything would thus be 'fine' eventually - they would get over this loss, they could defeat Asura in the future, they had other chances - but Liz couldn't hear anything past the pounding of her heart in her eardrums. She and Patty reverted to their human forms, and Liz brushed her hands through Kid's hair and told him that it was okay, they were still proud of him, he had tried his best. Whereas he usually would have appreciated her comfort, he said nothing, his face pale and his body very still - because he didn't hear her. He couldn't hear her.

Liz held her breath, because Kid wasn't moving. He _wasn't moving_. Usually he recovered by now - usually it was different - but he wasn't moving. And she wasn't breathing. She heard Tsubaki fanning Black Star with her hand and whispering to him urgently, but it felt far away to her, as if a wall separated them. She hefted Kid's upper body into her arms; Patty grabbed his legs.

He gasped sharply as they lifted him, and his eyes opened slightly.

"Liz," he croaked, staring up at her. "I'm sorry..."

Liz drew in a deep breath and realized that it hurt. Her vision fanned sickeningly, then steadied.

"... We're not angry at you," she said, smiling at him weakly. "Rest. It's okay. You're hurt."

The Demon God was revived and everything had changed. For all they knew, the world could end - seriously, literally _end_.

But Kid had opened his eyes, and that meant Liz could breathe again.


	11. Memory

AN: So apparently, when President McKinley's wife had seizures at the dinner table, he put a napkin over her face. Seriously, our class just about died laughing. We were watching some documentary, and the narrator was like, OH, HE CARED ABOUT HER SO MUCH, WHEN SHE HAD SEIZURES HE PUT NAPKINS ON HER FACE! Yeah, real sentimental.

Anyway, cutting the crap now. More fluff! And HAPPY FRIDAY! (even though this was updated past midnight... I'VE FAILED. OTL)

PS: HOLY CRAP, this chapter has to do with the title of the fanfic. WHO'DA THUNKIT

* * *

Patty tended to only remember the little things.

It had always been tough for her to recall the faces of the Kishin Eggs that harmed them - the ones that got away, that is. Her teammates would struggle to find their foes amidst seas of strangers in vast, unfamiliar territories, and she was rarely of any help, because she hadn't expended the effort it took to commit the terrible people in the world to her memory. She stood by the sides of her allies instead of searching with them and giggled, holding onto their hands and their arms and clinging to their shoulders, laughing and pointing out irrelevant things, because she just couldn't summon up a mental picture of the terrible sinners that had tried to end their lives.

Whenever Maka asked her for the _major grade _homework assignments she'd lost somewhere within her notebook, Patty would show her a piece of paper with a pig scribbled on it. She'd apologize, because that's what Liz and Kid had taught her to do, and she'd laughingly admit that although she'd _sort of_ listened to the teacher, she'd not only forgotten to take down the assignment, but she'd also forgotten what it was to begin with. Maka would never get mad at her for neglecting to be a good student; she just stopped asking eventually, instead seeking out Kid or Liz and getting the missing work from them.

She didn't remember to commit herself to hatred, and she could never remember what it took to excel in academics. Those things just weren't as important to her as everything else.

No, what Patty did remember were the minor details - the things that gave her life meaning.

She failed to remember most of the days when Black Star bragged loudly to her about his muscular physique. The time she spent socking his abs like a punching bag (as per his request, of course) were forgotten, because he wouldn't even flinch, no matter how much energy she put into each hit. She did, however, remember - very clearly - the day that she had "accidentally" aimed too low. He'd fallen to his knees and curled up like a pill bug, and Patty had laughed about it until she had to gasp for breath to keep from smothering herself in her own mirth. She'd leapt behind Soul once Black Star had recovered and made faces at him from a distance, because she knew that Tsubaki would hold him back no matter what.

The days Ox spent rambling during lunch were just a fact of life, and there was nothing particularly memorable about his speeches for the most part. She did, however, recall the day when Ox had decided to speak a little too loudly while Maka was in a tizzy, with crystal clarity. He had been saying something about his astounding bravery during his last mission while staring pointedly at Kim (the poor girl), and after about five minutes of incessant rambling, Maka had wordlessly loaded her spoon up with pea-laced mashed potatoes and launched it at his shiny head. Needless to say, he returned fire - and he unfortunately mistook Soul as the one that had started the whole ordeal. Confused and angry, Soul had picked up a fistful of steamed green beans and hurled them at Ox, who ducked at the last minute with a triumphant yell. Harv consequently had a lovely new green toupee. In no time at all the food fight escalated, spreading through the cafeteria like a wildfire. That night, Kid had shed tears born from hard labor as he scrubbed the gravy stains out of Liz's top.

And there had been many nights where they stumbled into their home so thoroughly exhausted from missions that they felt ready to pass out on the spot; there was nothing special about those occasions. But her memory eagerly took in the nights when Kid would fall asleep on the couch after insisting that he _was not tired_, and with Liz's help, she would carry him up the flights of stairs and leave him in his bedroom. She remembered how soft his blankets were against her fingertips, and how his skin was even softer as she brushed her lips against his forehead. Liz would tuck him in like the mother he never had and the mother she'd always been, and they would both whisper their goodnights as they left him to dream.

Patty's brain never retained much at a time, but the people that called her stupid were the real dummies, she figured, because she was the only one that never lost sight of what she truly loved. They were blind to what their souls wanted, and that made them more stupid than she would ever be, even if she never went to another lesson in her life.

For all it was worth, she thought she had the best memory in the world.


	12. Insanity

AN: !! SKIP THIS CHAPTER IF YOU HAVEN'T GOTTEN TO THE KISHIN PLOT YET!!

GIMME A C. GIMME AN R. GIMME TWO E'S. GIMME A P. GIMME A Y. WHAT DOES THAT SPELL

CREEPY!

... Creepy chapter. I have a bad case of the Fridays, sorry.

EDIT: Fixed a word that I accidentally used in place of another, doop. When I update late at night, my sentiment goes from "LET'S DO THIS" to "LET'S DO THIS SO I CAN GO TO SLEEP."

* * *

Kid's ragged breaths felt rancid against Liz's neck.

Her meister stood directly behind her, his body shaking with the tremors from a terrible laugh that did not belong to him, voice hoarse from cackling in a volume that was far too loud. His hands gripped her shoulders tightly, and she felt him against her back, colder than he usually was, than he should have been. He'd been standing there for a while, she suspected, evading her notice, but he was making himself known to her now, and his fingers were pressed into her collar bones to a painful point that made her fight the urge to panic.

"It's **beautiful** here," he whispered from behind her, right into her ear. She was too frightened to move. "Don't you see it, Elizabeth? It's **beautiful** here." Liz couldn't remember the last time he'd called her by her first name in its entirety. It scared her, this strange and frightening and foreign behavior, so she didn't say anything, didn't _do _anything. She merely stared out at the land before them, dark, black, spotless under the red-tinted sky.

"Don't you see the symmetry?" He asked, giggling. "Don't you see it? Isn't it _wonderful_?"

"There's nothing here, Kid," Liz said, her voice quivering. He was laughing, he was too close, he was too _intimate _with her, and every red flag she had within her mind was going up: This wasn't Kid, it couldn't be Kid, it was completely unlike Kid.

But it _was _Kid.

His laughter grew louder, and it echoed like a thunderclap across the endless nothing.

"That's what makes it beautiful, Elizabeth," he shouted between bouts of mirth. "If there is nothing, there can be nothing to ruin it. There is perfection in nothing. It is **beautiful**."

Liz stared straight ahead, gazing into the arid oblivion, and tried to picture a place and time prior to when it all went horribly wrong. Kid stepped out from behind her abruptly, filling her vision with his wild grin and bloodshot eyes, the tears from his fit streaming down his face as his chest heaved with great gasps.

"This is how the world will be," he yelled, his every word bouncing off the infinite edge of the Earth and coming back to claw at Liz's ears. "_This is how I want the world to be_!"

His laughter stopped. His words faded. He wasn't even breathing.

"... _It's absolutely perfect_," he hissed.

Gooey streams of red oozed from invisible cuts on his forehead, following the path of his tears. And three vertical eyes of red obscured the pretty gold.

* * *

That was the first time Liz ever remembered waking up screaming.

Kid appeared within her doorway in an instant, shouting her name in his comfortably familiar voice - Liz! _Liz_! - his eyes wide with comfortably familiar fear. Nothing was foreign about the way he _gently _grasped her shoulders and _gently _whispered to her, asking her if she was alright, if she'd had a nightmare, if it had startled her awake. He gradually reverted to his usual stoic expression as the adrenaline from her screams wore off, and he smirked at her, dryly and humorlessly. She was okay, he realized - she was okay. Nothing had hurt her. Nothing had infiltrated their home but fear. She had a nightmare; that was all.

_This_ was Kid. This was her Kid, and that terrible nightmare was nothing but a twisted figment.

And yet Liz still found herself putting her hands on his cheeks, just in case. He tensed as she ran her fingers up into his bangs, felt his forehead, made sure there were no concealed eyes of red or hidden patches of sick, bloody goo.

He stared at her, clearly uncomfortable, but he somehow knew that she _needed _this, so he didn't pull away and instead allowed her to thoroughly examine his face. Eventually she dropped her hands back onto her blankets, smiling uneasily at him and hoping that he wouldn't ask any questions that she didn't want to answer. To her surprise and relief, he didn't ask about her nightmare; instead he asked her if she felt better, and after she nodded and insisted that it was just a stupid dream, he requested that she go clean herself up and meet him and Patty for lunch in the dining room. As he stood he suggested that she didn't take any more afternoon naps until the Kishin was stopped, and he left the door open behind him when he left.

Her fear made her vulnerable - she knew that. But it wasn't a fear for herself, as it usually was; it was a fear for the well-being of her meister. Knowing that she _wasn't _susceptible to the madness was ultimately what had made her susceptible in the first place.

This whole insanity thing was, for lack of a better term, becoming a complete and total pain in the ass.


	13. Misfortune

AN: Ugh, I didn't forget about this, I was just trapped in IRL for a while. I'm a terrible person for not updating, so I figured I'd try before vacation.

* * *

And suddenly, their entire day of plans had gone right down the crapper.

It usually didn't take much to get Patty worked up - high temperatures, a broken video game, a stolen cookie, they all did the trick - but this was a special kind of anger. She smashed her face against the glass and glared daggers and bombs out the window, her jagged breaths puffing uneven amounts of moisture against the glass surface, clouding up the watery scene before her. Goddamn it all, of all the days in the month for the stupid weather man to give them an incorrect forecast - it was like a thousand floating people were dumping buckets upon buckets of precipitation onto the ground below, their cruel laughter manifesting in booms of thunder. She could barely see the streets of Death City through the thick sheets of rain, lightning blinding her and stealing away her hope with every fizzle and pop.

Thunderstorms - thunderstorms all God-befrigged day long. That's what the changed forecast had said when she'd turned on the television to confirm that she wasn't hallucinating, that it was _seriously _pouring on the one day she hoped to the Lord it wouldn't. She'd almost put her fist through the screen when she heard it.

"Partly cloudy my _ass_," she sneered to the outdoors and to the invisible weather man, pushing her palms against the cold and rain-spattered surface. The glass rattled with another roar from the heavens, and she stuck her tongue out at the sky with a childish squeal, returning the taunt. Stupid nature. Stupid weather. She hated it. She would never forgive it.

Today was _supposed _to be fun, because today was the day she had convinced Liz and Kid to accompany her to the nearest zoo. Today, she was _supposed _to watch the giraffes, and the monkeys, and the elephants, and the wolves and the turtles and the birds, but _no_. It had to rain. It had to rain harder than rain had ever rained before on the one day they had managed to clear their schedule. She clenched her hands into fists and growled, pounding on the glass in misguided fury, and the sound came back to her, telling her matter-of-factly that she was the only one listening to her own problems, that no one else cared. It pissed her the Hell off. Stupid nature. Stupid weather.

She didn't deal with real life when she could help it, but this was unavoidable. To her, this unforeseen storm was the epitome of misfortune.

There was another flash of lightning, and Patty slammed her forehead against the window, sniffling. Her anger was beginning to evaporate, leaving only disappointment and despair in its wake. She had been looking forward to this for weeks; just her, and her sister, and her very crazy meister, enjoying a day with jungle creatures and zoo food (whatever that was - Kid had mentioned that it was greasy and had no nutritional value so it sounded good to her) and stuffed toys shaped like the animals they would have seen. Now there wouldn't be any food or any toys or any animals; in fact, Liz and Kid would probably find something else to do for the day, now that their plans - their beloved plans, the ones they had thought about for so long! - had been smashed into powder.

She'd played over how the day would go so many times in her head because the anticipation had been unbearable. They would have arrived at the zoo promptly, and they would have made their way around the park as slowly as they wanted, pointing out funny animals or cool animals or stupid-looking animals or animals that looked like people they knew. Whenever they saw a booth selling popcorn or pretzels or hotdogs they would have been able to stop and they could eat, they could eat as much of that fattening, greasy food as she wanted. But now that the rain had come all of the animals would be in their houses, or whatever they had to hide in, and all of the booths would be covered and pushed into some place where they wouldn't get wet - and there wouldn't be any people, either, because nobody wanted to go out on a day where it was _raining_.

Stupid nature. Stupid weather. The epitome of misfortune. Patty was so caught up in her resentment that she failed to hear the familiar rap of knuckles against her door.

"Yo," Liz said from the doorway. Patty turned to face her sister, her face contorted with bitterness and dismay.

"What, Sis?" She demanded, pouting. Was she here to tell her about their _new plans _now that they weren't obligated to go with her to the zoo?

Kid appeared from behind Liz, a DVD in hand. He waved it at her with his other hand resting lightly on his hip.

"It's raining," he said as if he hadn't noticed that Patty had been staring out the window in the moments prior. She wrinkled her nose at him unhappily. "We know you wanted to go to the zoo today, but we can't with weather like this, so we decided to rent a movie instead." He canted his head off to the side, looking at her through his bangs. "Would you like to watch it with us, Patty? I think you'll like it."

"We picked it out with you in mind," Liz added.

Liz smiled. Kid smiled. And Patty felt herself begin to smile, too.

Maybe there were worse things than rain on a day off. The weather wasn't going to tear them apart - even though they couldn't go through with what she'd wanted so badly, they were going to spend time with her, anyway - and by choice, too.

Patty silently decided that the rain was okay - for today, at least. Maybe this wasn't the epitome of misfortune after all.


	14. Smile

AN: ~sticks hand out of grave~

* * *

"I think it's cute," Liz stated pensively, tilting her head to the side. "I mean, it's charming," she added as an after-thought, twirling a finger in a quick circle to get him to turn, "and a little different, but it works on you."

Kid turned obediently like a trained dog, but he made his disgust apparent by curling his lips into a beastly snarl. How could they be so blasé about herding him into a shop, like an animal, and forcing him into lower-class rags?

"This is stupid," he pointed out. "And it's pointless, too. I hate all of this clothing, and I _especially _hate this shirt."

"You haven't even checked to see how you look yet," Liz informed him.

She was right, of course - but why would he bother to check? He was trying his best to avoid looking at his reflection in the mirror lest he get a glimpse of his bruised ego, but he had to see himself at some point - and the image that greeted him was not a welcome one. Yes, these hideous street clothes were _exactly _what his high-class wardrobe needed! Where had they been all of his life?

_Please_.

"Are you high, Liz? _Ab_solutely _not_," he hissed, narrowing his eyes to dangerous slits. His reflection mocked him, bright blue in color with hands placed indignantly over jean-clad hips. "This is utterly ridiculous. I look like a clown." He shot Liz a glare from over his shoulder, seething. "I can't believe I even let you two talk me intothis--"

"Actually, nevermind. Lose the shirt, keep the pants," she advised, talking over his tantrum. His cheeks flushed with irritation that he wasn't willing to conceal.

"Try this one, try this one!" Patty exclaimed as she scampered over, shoving yet another scrap of cloth (this time in pink) into his arms. He gawked at it for a moment, repulsed and taken aback by the mere _aspect _of her suggesting such a monstrosity; then he promptly resumed his previous haughty attitude, turning his nose upwards. No, he would never sport that fuchsia mess, especially not in public - who did they think he was?

"Get this out of my sight, Patty," he growled, "before I make you _eat _it. Did you even look at it? Did you notice the _buttons?_ In the name of my Father, woman, they're only on _one side_!" He stamped his foot with purpose, causing the floor of the entire dressing room to shake. He tended to forget about his strength in times of rage. "It's perfectly asymmetrical! How... How _dare_ you?"

"You look good in jeans," Liz pointed out casually. Kid ignored her.

"Exactly who do you take me for?" He tore the terrible sky-blue mistake that was his previous shirt clean off and hastily began buttoning up the new one, the flash of near-magenta from the mirror matching his reddened face. "I'm a man of _status_ and _pride_. I'm not a doll! I'm not your mannequin or your model!"

Some poor sap decided to poke his head out of the stall next to them, merely to them to see what the ruckus was about, and hastily retreated like a groundhog that had seen his shadow.

"Calm yourself, child," Liz said in a tauntingly soothing tone. She wasn't going to hold this fit over his head; it was merely another symmetry tizzy, and she was well used to them by now. "We're just trying to get you some casual clothing so you don't have to walk around in a black suit on your off days. You should be thankful; this is for your own good." She handed him a collared shirt in his signature color, humming thoughtfully. "This should look nice - not too sleazy, not too flashy... I don't understand why you're complaining."

Kid issued an indignant harrumph, clawing at the stubborn wrinkles that perturbed the desired smoothness. Patty laughed in delight as he shrugged the black over-wear on.

"Kid looks handsome!" She exclaimed, clapping her hands enthusiastically. "Like a businessy guy!"

His sneer declined exponentially into a pout.

"I like it," Liz declared in a tone of finality. "Pink is definitely a good color on you. I'd tell you to ditch the black, but you'd ignore me - I don't even know why I mentioned it in the first place."

"I hate it and I hate _both of you_," he enthused miserably in an insincere tone, stuffing his hands into his new pockets. It was completely ridiculous; how did they expect him to parade himself around his Father's city in a _pink shirt_ and _jeans_? What was he, a street urchin? Scoffing, he adjusted the collar of the black shirt and turned, staring into the mirror to see how he looked from the behind. This was preposterous, a sin; he didn't look like the son of Death, he looked like a _gangbanger_.

But the shade of pink was rather nice. Liz was correct in assuming that, at the very least - it was a pleasant color, easy on the eyes. And he couldn't raise any objections about the black shirt, because it was rather high quality, all things considered, and he was very fond of the color itself, as they knew all too well. As for the pants - well, he had never approved of wearing jeans, but they weren't baggy and they didn't make him look like _too _much of a hoodlum. If anyone could make jeans look classy, it was him. Against all the odds, he looked rather fine.

"You look pleased," Liz pointed out, breaking his trance.

"Narcissistic bastard!" Patty added a bit too eagerly. Kid huffed resentfully.

"Fine, I give up," he sighed, feigning distaste for the sake of his image. "Buy this outfit. See if I care. But I'm _never _going to wear it."

"Whatever you say," Liz chirped in a sing-song tone. "You might want to wipe that stupid smile off your face before you say that, though."

Patty's frenzied laughter filled the entire store.


End file.
